


ready to / runaway

by autisticlalna (mathonwys)



Series: DreamOut AU [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: (explosively.), (in chapter 2 and its very short), Canon-Typical Violence, Discussion of Inherent Morality, Dream Asshole Moments, Dream Smp, DreamOut AU, Dreamon Hunters, Episode Adaption - So I hunted Dream..., Fundy Has Regrets, Gen, Multiple Perspectives, Not RPF, Panic Attacks, Possession, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, a lot happens in this fic and im still not sure how to tag stuff, basically just "how would this even go down in this au", no beta we die like wilbur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-12 02:34:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28878030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mathonwys/pseuds/autisticlalna
Summary: “HE’S A DREAMON!”Fundy leaned back as far as he could with Tubbo holding onto him. The lighthearted prankster mood the other had been carrying all this time was extinguished and replaced with a type of manic terror that made Fundy’s fur fluff up in alarm. “No,” he said, putting a hand on Tubbo’s face and using his other hand to pry him off of him. “Nonono, he’s not. I think I’d know if he was.”-Turns out Tubbo was on to something re: dreamons after all. The situation is way more complex than it first appears, though, and the resulting shenanigans may not be the most fun for everyone involved.(or, Fundy learns he's engaged to a mask.)
Relationships: Fundy/Dream (referenced), only for plot reasons i promise
Series: DreamOut AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2022380
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	1. side a

**Author's Note:**

> i would like to start these author's notes off by cursing fundy's name for using a BNA remix in his dreamon hunters video because i ended up tracking it down and listening to it NON STOP the entire time i wrote BOTH CHAPTERS and its STILL stuck in my head
> 
> i wrote this uhhh months ago (this a/n is from january) and just. never got around to posting it? because i was feeling self-conscious about the au and my ability to write dsmp in general, and then plot developments in canon made me feel egh about writing dream. but also my friends really enjoy it so ! i guess i finally should
> 
> disclaimer: i was still very new to dsmp when i wrote this, same with the first two fics. im trying my best.

It should’ve been easy to find someone to mess with. It’s the Dream SMP— there’s no shortage of people around… except for the part where there _is_ right now. Aimless and decked out in full golden armor, a confused fox and excited teenager find themselves roaming around the server in search of something to do.

Fundy checked the online list again. Yeah, it’s just him and Tubbo. He’d been following Tubbo around for a bit now; what had originally been just a fun drop-in had evolved into him getting dragged into whatever wild scheme the other had concocted, and while he _could_ back out at any time Fundy kinda wanted to see where this was going. Not that Tubbo really had a habit of explaining the logic behind anything he was doing right now, but that was just part of the fun, really.

Which is how Fundy ended up sitting on top of a lapis block pole, his legs dangling over the side, and hearing Tubbo confidently declare that now they were safe from “the demons”. Fundy tilted his head, then followed Tubbo’s lead and jumped down to land beside the teen and look up at their creation. According to Tubbo, it was the silhouette of a Star Destroyer. To Fundy, it looked more… rude. “Ohhhkay, that’s good?”

“That _is_ good.” Tubbo gave him a thumbs-up, and Fundy mirrored it with some trepidation. His eyes lit up with a sudden idea, and Fundy’s ears laid back flat as Tubbo clapped and bounced on his heels. “Do you want to become a demon hunter with me?”

Fundy didn’t need to think too hard about that. “I would do _nothing_ rather than demon hunting with you, Tubbo.” Sure, he still had no idea what Tubbo was on about, but he was having a pretty good time. It was a nice reprieve from… well, everything else going on the server. Plus, the server was rather deserted right now, so it’s not like he had anything better to do.

Step one was, apparently, find Punz. Whether to kill or to recruit, Fundy wasn’t sure; with Tubbo’s current mindset, it could be either. That plan was dead right after arrival. As soon as Tubbo pitched the concept of finding him, the chat alerted the two would-be hunters of the fact that Punz had killed Sapnap so hard he died _twice_ before logging off. Well, that just meant they had to find a backup plan. Sapnap was still hanging around, sure, but considering he’d just experienced turbo death Fundy figured they should leave him alone.

Plan B landed on their doorstep with the notification that Dream was online.

“Dream’s not a demon,” Tubbo stated. Fundy shook his head as he followed Tubbo along the wooden path. “Have you ever seen that guy die? No.” Fundy wanted to object that _yes_ , he’s pretty sure Dream’s died before, but was interrupted by Tubbo coming to a sudden stop and throwing out an arm that the fox walked into. Fundy flicked his ears and opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before he could get any sound out Tubbo whirled around and grabbed him by the front of the shirt. “HE’S A _DREAMON_!”

Fundy leaned back as far as he could with Tubbo holding onto him. The lighthearted prankster mood the other had been carrying all this time was extinguished and replaced with a type of manic terror that made Fundy’s fur fluff up in alarm. “No,” he said, putting a hand on Tubbo’s face and using his other hand to pry him off of him. “Nonono, he’s not. I think I’d know if he was.”

Sapnap logged off. Tubbo and Fundy exchanged glances, gears turning in their heads.

“ ** _DREAM IS A DEMON!_** ”

Step one of demon hunting: find the demon. That shouldn’t be too hard, what with Dream always dressing in neon green. Fundy and Tubbo charged ahead, diamond hoes and golden swords at the ready. Tubbo spotted their target first, several yards ahead of them but with the distance dwindling fast. “There he is!” he crowed. Dream’s head snapped up, and he glanced over his shoulder at the wannabe hunters gaining on him. “DREAMON! WE KNOW OF YOUR SPECIES!”

Fundy’s had practice reading Dream’s body language. He’d never seen him without the mask, and that made reading expressions pretty hard, but Dream made up for it with exaggerated gesturing that got the point across. As soon as Tubbo said the word “dreamon”, Dream full-body flinched like he’d been struck, then broke out into a run.

“After him!” Tubbo yelled. Fundy didn’t have any choice but to do so. Dream was fast, but couldn’t shake the two of them’s pursuit; he vaulted over hills and fences with practiced ease, but Tubbo and Fundy remained close behind.

“We’re onto you, dreamon!” Fundy took the lead after a difficult jump and cornered the runaway dreamon. Dream glanced around for an escape route, but there wasn’t anywhere to run that either Fundy or Tubbo couldn’t follow. Fundy wondered what was going through his head. He looked _scared_.

Tubbo got Fundy’s attention and pulled the fox away from the masked dreamon. “You’re getting ahead of yourself! We need a protective circle!” He brandished his diamond hoe threateningly at Dream, then got to work tilling the earth around them. Dream, surprisingly, didn’t run, and instead lurked about and watched Tubbo work before trying to scoot closer. Before he could try to cross the farmland, Tubbo smacked his leg with the handle of his hoe and sent him skittering backwards.

To be honest, Dream didn’t really look like a demon. Or, uh, a dreamon, Fundy supposed. Not that he was sure what dreamons looked like; Tubbo hadn’t explained that part. He’d known Dream for a while, he was _engaged_ to him, and Dream looked the same as he’d ever did: a tall blonde man wearing a green hoodie, sweatpants, and a white porcelain mask with a smiley face drawn on it. Sure, Fundy didn’t know how Dream saw out of the mask, but he’d never asked. He’d also never seen _under_ the mask, not even on their date— again, he’d never asked.

Had Dream been a dreamon this entire time, or was it something that’d only happened recently? Fundy wanted to ask so many questions so badly. Not taking his eyes off Dream as he circled the outside of the protective circle, Fundy leaned in close to Tubbo. “What do we do now?” he whispered.

Tubbo whacked Dream again when he got too close and re-tilled the ground where it’d gotten trampled. “I’ve got an idea,” he replied at a quiet volume— not quite whispering, but soft enough that Dream may have trouble understanding— without looking at Fundy. “There’s a ritual to _purify_ dreamons. If we can get him to cooperate, we can get our friend back.” Fundy nodded. Tubbo straightened up and pointed at Dream with his sword. “Dreamon! We need you to come to our altar!”

Dream backed up away from the sword, then tilted his head to one side. Fundy watched as he considered Tubbo’s proposal, then shrugged. “Okay,” he said. He didn’t _sound_ any different. He didn’t sound possessed or demonic, he just sounded like Dream. Well, he trusted Tubbo on this, especially after seeing how Dream had reacted when they’d first approached.

The two hunters herded their captive to the dirt-and-lapis structure Fundy had helped Tubbo put together earlier. For his part, Dream was pretty cooperative; despite the distrustful looks both Fundy and Tubbo were shooting him and the tension in the air, he followed along without much complaint. He didn’t even seem too bothered when Tubbo placed down a fencepost in the centre of the supposed Star Destroyer outline and ordered him to stand on it. Dream perched on the wooden post, knees bent and his arms crossed on top of them in a casual squat, as Tubbo produced a leather-bound book with a symbol on the cover Fundy didn’t recognize.

The scene was set: Dream in the middle on the post, with Tubbo in front of him and Fundy behind him. Or maybe the other way around, with how Dream casually hopped around in an attempt to keep an unseen eye on both of them. Tubbo opened the book dramatically and leafed through it, then held it out and straightened his posture.

“Dreamon, repeat after me!” Tubbo commanded. “You too, Fundy. If you want.” Dream hopped around to face Tubbo, looked him over, then shrugged and stood up to balance somewhat less precariously. Dream’s body language was loose, without any of the tension it’d been holding before; Fundy got the sense that he was playing along, so to speak, and not too worried about whatever he and Tubbo were about to do. It was a sharp contrast to the sheer fear Fundy had seen on him just a few minutes earlier. He felt like maybe he should note that down, but he didn’t have a book on him— maybe he should carry one around for future demon-hunting escapades.

Tubbo cleared his throat. “I am one!”

“I am one,” Dream echoed, holding back a snicker. Yeah, he definitely wasn’t taking this seriously. Fundy leaned around him to give Tubbo a doubtful look, but his fellow dreamon hunter was too occupied with what he was reading out.

“A soul!”

“A soul.”

“A higher power!”

Tubbo’s voice rose in intensity, and Fundy found himself doing the same. Stuck in the middle, Dream put his hands in his hoodie pockets and repeated the chant as instructed. There was a strange… _hitch_ in his voice, though, as it progressed. Fundy saw his shoulders tense, saw him brace himself like he was about to sprint off into the distance but was contained only by the two of them blocking the way.

“I wish for this no more!”

Something was off with Dream’s voice. Fundy couldn’t place it. He sounded strained, but there was something _else_ too. Fundy’s ears perked up. Was it working? Were they _actually exorcising Dream?_

“I will be _fixed_!” Tubbo yelled.

“I WILL BE _FIXED_!” Dream’s voice was nearly a roar. He tilted his head up and spread his arms in a sudden motion; he was shaking hard, like a leaf in the wind. He grabbed his mask, whether to take it off or hold it on Fundy wasn’t sure. No— it was like he’d started to take it off, but changed his mind and was now holding onto it tight as if afraid someone would rip it away from him. Did the mask have something to do with this? Fundy took a step back, then another, torn between wanting to help and not wanting to interfere with the ritual.

He trusted Tubbo. He had to trust Tubbo. Tubbo had been correct, clearly, so Fundy just had to trust in him and once this was over he’d have Dream back from whatever’d possessed him. Wow, he’s a pretty crappy fiancé if he didn’t notice his fiancé was possessed by a demon (er, dreamon). Hopefully this would make up for it

“Okay! Very good, Dream!” Tubbo rifled through his pockets, still holding up the book in his other hand. “On my mark, we perform the action, and log out!” Action?! What action— Oh. Tubbo pulled out some eggs, and Fundy remembered when he’d helped build the lapis stacks; part of the “repeat after me” had included tossing a few eggs, and that must be part of this ritual too. “You will then be free! Fundy!” Fundy jumped a little, then checked his own inventory. Surely enough, he still had some eggs left over.

“Ready, Tubbo!” He drew his arm back, eggs prepared.

“Three! TWO! **ONE!** **_THROW EGGS!_** ”

It was a verifiable hailstorm of eggs. Dream stumbled as he was pelted from both sides; he yelped in pain and confusion, but the two demon hunters didn’t let up. Fundy wasn’t really aiming for anywhere besides Dream’s general direction, but one egg smacked Dream’s hand and caused him to let go of his mask. Before he could recover, another one hit him hard enough to send him reeling back.

Something flew through the air and landed at Fundy’s feet with a loud clatter. He didn’t look down, too busy following Tubbo’s lead, until the teen shouted “LOG OUT LOG OUT **_LOG OUT_** ” and vanished. Fundy hit Dream a few more times, just to be absolutely sure, then pulled up the menu and vanished as well.

...It should be safe to log back in, now.

The world reformed around him, block by block. Dream was still standing on the pole, his hood down and his back to Fundy. There was also a large amount of loud hissing. Fundy’s eyes widened as he saw the TNT flashing. With a startled yelp he backed up, but Tubbo was slower on the draw; Dream looked over his shoulder as his attention was caught by the noise, and Fundy saw a glimpse of red eyes and a thin scar before everything detonated, taking Dream and Tubbo with it.

“TUBBO!!” Fundy knew Tubbo would be fine… probably. Death didn’t really stick on the SMP, but also he’d never dealt with a demon on the SMP either. He’d been lucky enough to only be a bit nicked by shrapnel, but the same couldn’t be said for the other two. 

Oh, right, the chat. Fundy pinged Tubbo and crossed his fingers. “Uh… the dreamon is gone.”

Tubbo’s voice came through a moment later, shrill and panicked. “THAT’S WHY YOU DON’T LOG IN MID-CEREMONY!” Well, hey, he’s alive! Which begs the question about what happened to Dream. Fundy approached the lip of the crater, leaned over, and squinted at the pile of items that had landed below. Yeah, no sign of him. His train of thought was interrupted by Tubbo shouting again, this time sounding a lot more thrilled. “I think we just freed him!”

“We interfered with the ceremony, though!” Fundy bounced around the shattered pathway, keeping an eye on chat as he did so. His foot knocked into something, and he came to a sudden stop. There, down on the ground in front of him, was a white porcelain mask. _Dream’s_ mask. Eyes wide, Fundy picked it up and looked it over. It was completely featureless except for the marker scribbled on it; even the straps that fastened it had vanished, somehow, leaving it just a slightly convex disc.

There was a weird feeling around it. Fundy almost felt like he was being _watched_ , although he couldn’t explain why. He turned it over in his hands a few times and swished his tail side to side as he thought. What should he do with this? Give it back to Dream, surely, if he respawned fine. The thought of putting it on flitted through his mind, but he shook his head; he wasn’t sure it’d fit him, seeing as he was a fox and all, and that just seemed like it’d be asking for trouble. Instead, he hid it inside his jacket and glanced around to see if either of them were returning yet.

There— Dream was approaching, looking a bit singed around the edges but otherwise fine. He had his hood pulled up to try and hide his face, and his eyes were hidden by his bangs, but for the first time Fundy got to see him without the mask.

Fundy wasn’t really sure what to make of it. He hadn’t put much thought into imagining a maskless Dream, and seeing him without it was outright _surreal._ He was rather pale, with a square jawline and dark circles under his eyes that were just barely visible under his blonde bangs; his hair was outrageously fluffy, and to Fundy’s surprise he had a scruffy goatee that’d been hidden all this time. A thin, white scar ran from the bridge of his nose to his cheek, like he’d gotten slashed across the face at a weird angle. Maybe from one of the manhunts, maybe from the big duel he’d had with Techno, Fundy wasn’t sure.

“Fundy?” Dream’s voice sounded off, like it had during the ritual. Fundy still couldn’t place it. He was more preoccupied with _oh my god he has a tooth gap_ as Dream spoke to him. “I feel…” He brought his hands together and fidgeted as he tried to find the words, fingers interlocking in a gesture Fundy hadn’t seen him do before. He shook his head, then spread his arms as whatever sentence he was trying to piece together failed him. “Different.”

“Different how?” Fundy was cautious as he stepped closer. Dream stayed where he was. He chewed on his bottom lip, and Fundy found himself wondering if he’d always done that. He heard footsteps as Tubbo jogged up behind him, but all of his focus was on the blonde in front of him.

Dream scratched the back of his neck— another nervous tic Fundy hadn’t seen him do before. “I feel _new,_ ” he said after a pause. Tubbo gasped. 

“That’s good, that’s good!” Tubbo took the rest of the wooden stairs two at a time and skidded to a stop behind Fundy. “Do you heaaaar… voices?” He grabbed Fundy by the arm and pulled him closer. “That’s a big giveaway,” he said as he tapped the side of his head. Made sense, Fundy thought.

The question seemed to take Dream off guard. He frowned and drew in on himself; he hunched his shoulders, avoided looking at either of the two demon hunters as he tucked his hands in his pocket. “No,” he said after a long pause. Tubbo beamed so hard it nearly became literal. Fundy could easily imagine bright rays of light emanating from Tubbo like he’d become a miniature sun.

“Perfect! That’s good, that’s good— how long is your right arm?” Another aside to Fundy: “This is an important one, this is important, dreamons have longer right arms than left.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Fundy could see Dream mirroring his face of disbelief. Dream rolled up his sleeves anyway— Fundy could see more scars from his various escapades— and held out his arms as he checked. “Uh, the same as my left.”

“THE SAME AS HIS LEFT!” Tubbo punched the air in victory. Fundy leaned away to avoid getting clocked on accident. The teen barraged Dream with more questions that supposedly were to verify if he was still under the dreamon’s control or not, and all of Dream’s answers pointed to the answer being “no, he’s good now”. Fundy let Tubbo take the lead on this. His shoulders sagged with relief; asides from the scare with the TNT, Dream was okay. The ceremony had worked.

Tubbo wasn’t through with him yet, though. “We need to make _absolutely_ sure,” he told Fundy. “The dreamon might— It might be in hiding, so we need to make sure. I’ve got some ideas.” He cleared his throat, then pointed at Dream in a rather dramatic fashion. “Dream, please follow _really_ close.” Still looking rather out-of-sorts, Dream nodded and trailed behind them as Tubbo led him and Fundy along the wooden path he’d just ran down. 

Once they reached the remains of Ponk’s lemon tree, Tubbo held out his hands to get the two of them to stop. Dream still looked lost and confused; Fundy chalked that up to a side-effect of the ritual, or maybe just because of getting exploded right after. Maybe a bit of both? Either way, Dream was rather low-key in demeanor.

Tubbo clapped, then pointed at Dream. “Dream. Where are you standing?”

Dream frowned. As both Fundy and Tubbo watched, he paced around the area; he rifled through the chests, ran his hand over the remaining logs, and very much seemed to be acting like he was seeing it all for the first time. Finally, Dream turned to face them with his shoulders slumped. “I don’t know.”

“That’s okay!” Tubbo said in a hurry. Dream looked unsure, but Tubbo already had his back to him and was corralling Fundy into a corner where they could whisper to each other. “He must have a memory here that is linked to dreamons, if you know what I mean,” Tubbo hissed in Fundy’s ear, “because that would've been completely wiped.”

“Right, right.” Fundy nodded hard enough that his hat started to slip off and he had to push it back into place. “So we need to show him something that he doesn’t like, then?” Tubbo gave him a thumbs-up, then turned his attention back to Dream (who’d started messing with the crafting bench).

“Dream, I am now going to need to show you something that will upset you,” Tubbo said. Dream made a face. Tubbo ignored it. “As… a test of emotion.” Again, Fundy was pulled aside as Tubbo explained his reasoning. “Fundy, we’re going to need to get an _iron door._ ” Oh, this could only end well. “But don’t let him know! I’m— do you have any iron on you?”

“A little.” Fundy passed Tubbo his iron in what he hoped was a surreptitious enough manner that Dream wouldn’t catch on. “Should I distract him?”

“Yeah! Yeah, yeah, keep him busy, I’ll get it ready.” With that, Tubbo was off like a bolt. Dream watched him go; Fundy saw him brush his bangs out of his eyes, but he had his head angled to where he couldn’t see what colour they were or… anything about them, really, before it fell back into place.

How was he going to distract Dream, anyway? Fundy didn’t have the slightest idea. He’d been following Tubbo’s lead up until now, but he’d just exited stage left and left Fundy here on his own with someone that may or may not still be a dreamon. He still had his diamond hoe, at least. Can’t go wrong with a diamond hoe.

Dream was the one to make the first move. “Fundy?” He turned to face him; Dream had one hand over his face, like he was trying to cover it, and Fundy understood what was bothering him before he even said it. “Where’s… where’s the mask?”

“I have it.” Fundy reached into his jacket pocket to grab it, but didn’t miss how Dream tensed up. For the first time, the fox was able to see a hint of Dream’s eyes behind his hair as the wind rustled it, and they were _alarmingly_ red. Not in the sort of way that suggested lack of sleep— although, maybe a little bit of that too, with how dark the circles under his eyes were— but as in his irises were straight-up _red._ “It got knocked off during the ritual, but I’ve got it.”

“Is he okay?” Dream blurted out. He was still hiding his face the best he could, but Fundy could tell how worried he was.

“The… the _mask_?” Fundy pulled it out and looked it over. “It’s fine. Unless you mean—?”

Dream grabbed his mask. Fundy wrenched it away from him and held it up over his head; he was getting a bad feeling about this, and if he’d learned anything from Tubbo at all today it was that he should go off his gut instinct. Not that Tubbo had told him that directly, but… you know. Either way, Fundy was now intent on playing keep-away with Dream until he got some answers.

Or until Dream punched him in the face, judging by the murderous look he was now giving him.

“Hand it over!” Dream’s hand gripped Fundy’s arm and yanked it down so the mask was in reach. Fundy yelped and wobbled from the sudden action, then planted his feet to keep his balance and wrestled with Dream over the object. “You don’t understand, I— I need it! _Please!_ “

“Why did you say ‘him’?” Fundy asked through gritted teeth. Dream twisted his arm sharply and Fundy let go. The two of them staggered apart, Fundy rubbing his arm and Dream hugging his mask close to his chest like it was the most valuable thing in the world. “I can’t understand if you don’t explain anything, Dream!”

“ _STOP CALLING ME DREAM!_ ” It exploded out of him with unexpected anger, and Fundy backed up so he was out of range of any punches thrown. Dream— or, not Dream— stared at him in a mix of rage and fear, teeth bared and looking like he was either going to attack or run.

Fundy inhaled, exhaled, and held his hands up. “You’re not Dream?” he asked, keeping his voice steady. The man in the green hoodie flinched. Fundy tried to ignore the fear gripping him; there had to be an explanation for this, yeah? Maybe— Maybe Dream was— “Who’s Dream, then? If you’re not Dream, then who…?”

He wasn’t sure what answer he expected. No, that’s not true— he _was_ expecting a different answer, one that fit in with all the evidence he’d learned that day. What he _wasn’t_ expecting was for not-Dream to laugh, to hold up the mask, and to point at it.

“The mask,” not-Dream said simply. “He’s— he’s the dreamon. He’s in the mask.”

Fundy’s jaw hung open. About fifty questions ran through his head, none of them he knew how to ask. He closed his mouth, put a hand on his face, closed his eyes, and counted to 10 internally before opening his eyes again and trying to face whatever was happening in his life now. “He’s… a mask. Dream’s a mask.”

The speedrunner formerly known as Dream nodded. Fundy dropped from standing to sitting and stared off into the middle distance. The other lingered near him awkwardly, staring down at the mask in his hands; out of the corner of his eye, Fundy saw him raise it like he was going to put it on, then seemingly think better of it and settle for just holding it.

“I’m Brick,” he said suddenly. “My name’s Brick. Dream’s the mask, I’m… I’m Brick.” Weird, it sounded like he was trying to convince _himself_ with that, too. Fundy flicked an ear and looked up at him.

“And you’ve been… possessed? This whole time?”

Brick nodded. Fundy’s heart sank. This _entire time,_ Dream hadn’t been who he’d thought he was. Now he was face-to-face with a stranger that he had no idea how he should be feeling about. Sure, him and Tubbo had certainly purified Dream, but… Fundy thought that meant Dream would be free of whatever awful creature was possessing him, not that _Dream_ was the awful creature possessing someone.

Wait. Hold on. “So— I’ve been talking to the mask the whole time? Including—“ Fundy gestured. “The date? The _proposal_?”

Brick snickered, although he tried to hide it. “You proposed to the _mask_ ,” he confirmed. Well, that’s it. Fundy’s life is now over. That… also raised a lot more questions, though. Fundy can’t help but get stuck on it: Dream was a dreamon. Not in the sense of being possessed, but he was _actually a Dreamon._ Dream, who he’d gotten close to. Dream, who he’d made several fond memories with. Dream, who he was _engaged_ to.

Dream, who had just gotten exorcised. Uh oh, gamers.

Was this a good or bad thing? Fundy had no idea! Theoretically good, because dreamons were bad. Theoretically bad, because oops turns out he’d formed an emotional bond with the dreamon half of the equation and the non-dreamon half was looking rather tetchy. 

“I don’t hear him,” Brick muttered. He sat down next to Fundy and stared down at the mask, eyes vacant. “I haven’t… Fundy, it’s been a really, _really_ long time since I last had control of my own body.” He looked up. Their eyes met— Brick’s expression was unreadable, while Fundy was just flat-out worried about the consequences of his actions.

“That’s… good?” Fundy ventured. “You’re free! We got rid of the d—“

Wrong thing to say. Brick gripped the mask hard enough that Fundy was worried he’d crack it; he gritted his teeth, then made eye contact again to give Fundy a glare that made him recoil. “He was my _friend_ ,” Brick snapped. “He was _your_ friend, too! You don’t get it, Fundy, I am _this_ close—“ He held up a hand, his finger and thumb nearly touching, “—to losing it right now. My _best friend_ , your _fiancé,_ the person that’s been there for me through everything— You tried to get rid of him.”

Fundy scrunched up his snout. “You were _possessed_ for… how long? Months? _Years?_ “

Brick shook his head. “Dream was… It’s complicated.” He sighed heavily and tugged on his hood; he kept a hand on the mask at all times, like he was afraid Fundy was going to take it from him again (or maybe just feeling comforted when holding it, for some reason). “I was possessed, yeah, and it sucked, but… He was my friend. He didn’t start out my friend, but we _became_ friends. He’s not a bad person for just being what he is, okay? It didn’t start out great, it was _awful_ , but he got better! He changed!”

Fundy didn’t know what to say. He patted Brick on the arm, hoping to convey some sort of reassurance that he couldn’t find in the words coming to mind. Brick looked like he wanted to smack his hand away, but didn’t follow through. Instead, he raised the mask to his face.

“Fundy, it’s ready!” Tubbo’s voice startled them both. The teenager bounced up and down and waved at them both from where he was standing; they must not have heard him approach. How much of it had Tubbo heard? Fundy wasn’t sure.

He looked over at Brick and was greeted with nervous red eyes. He hadn’t put the mask on after all. Tubbo must’ve startled him out of it. Fundy got to his feet, then extended a hand to help Brick up; Brick stared at his hand for a moment, then accepted the help.

“Tubbo will know what to do,” Fundy whispered to him. He didn’t show any sign of acknowledgement; Fundy couldn’t tell if he’d been too quiet, or if he was outright being ignored. Well, that’s fine. Brick was a hard person to get a read on: for someone that looked so much like Dream, his mannerisms were completely different. The way he held himself, the way he phrased things, the way he talked (was he _British?_ Seriously?), all of it was completely out of alignment with the person Fundy had thought he’d known. 

Would Tubbo be able to help? Tubbo knew how to banish dreamons, apparently, did he know how to summon them? What would he need to say to convince Tubbo to help? “Hey, Tubbo?” Fundy tapped him on the shoulder as they came to a stop by the structure Tubbo had built while Brick was preoccupied. Tubbo jumped a little, then turned to face him. “What’s, uh… What’s the ‘test of emotion’ going to do?”

“Oh, that’s easy!” Tubbo grinned. “See, dreamons are— they’re very emotional, Fundy. So, if we show Dream something that upsets him, that might jog his memory, and then we can learn what he’s forgotten! ...Or he’ll go crazy and try to kill us, but that _never_ happens.” Behind them, Brick skulked around and eyed the stone box with apprehension. It was a perfect recreation of a classic trap: an iron door rigged so that it would close once he stepped inside and activated the pressure plate. 

“Tubbo,” Fundy started, “Do you think… Are _all_ dreamons evil? Or are there good ones, too?”

Tubbo looked at him like he’d gone insane. “Of _course_ they’re evil, Fundy! They’re _monsters_! They lie to people and steal their energy! They’re the worst of the worst. Dream’s better off now, trust me. We did him a huge favour.”

_Did we?_ Fundy wanted to ask. He still trusted Tubbo, but his talk with Brick had planted seeds of doubt. If Brick had been telling the truth, then Dream— no matter what had happened behind the scenes— had been making strides to be more than just a parasite. “I don’t know about this,” he admitted. “Dream— er, Brick, that’s what he’s calling himself now— he seems _unhappy_. What if we made a mistake?”

That got Tubbo to hesitate. “Well uh, er…“ He sucked on his teeth. “What if it’s Stockholm Syndrome? You know— he was a dreamon for so long that he started to like it, or something. I don’t know, I haven’t heard of anything like that.” Fundy wanted to argue, but Tubbo cut him off. “Look, Fundy, we don’t have much time. Let’s do the test and then we can talk more, okay?” Fundy scowled, but nodded and backed off.

“Hey, Dream— Sorry, Brick!” Brick jumped a little at Tubbo’s shout. “I’m going to need you to close your eyes, okay? ...Fundy, did he close them? I can’t tell, his hair’s in the way.”

“They’re closed,” Brick said with a note of annoyance. “Now what?”

“Okay, walk towards my voice… a little more, yes, good… Okay, turn around.” Tubbo directed Brick, and he followed his instructions until he was standing right in front of the entrance to the iron door trap. “You can open your eyes now!”

Even with his back to the two of them, Fundy could tell when Brick had obeyed that last instruction. He jolted up straight, fists clenched and shoulders tense; the two demon hunters backed up as Brick stared the trap down, trembling with barely concealed anger.

After a long pause, Brick stepped forward. The iron door closed behind him.

“Okay!” Tubbo said. “Okay, this is good, he’s not—“

The door dented outwards. Fundy scrambled away as another punch from inside warped the solid metal; Tubbo’s eyes widened, and he started backing up further as well. With a shriek of tortured metal, the iron door came off its hinges and landed on the ground in a battered mess. Standing in the doorway, face hidden once again by the porcelain mask, was their friend. The sheer fury radiating off of him was enough to kill a man at ten paces.

Despite his self-preservation instincts begging him to do otherwise, Fundy approached the masked man with his hands raised in a placating gesture. “Bri—“

He didn’t even see him draw his sword. Fundy saw Tubbo ignite with a shriek, and then the two of them were off like a gunshot as the enraged Brick— no, Fundy was pretty sure this was Dream— gave chase. “HE’S STILL A DREAMON!” Tubbo shrieked, solidifying Fundy’s theory. “ ** _HE’S STILL A DREAMON!_** ”

“Tubbo?!” Fundy ducked around the back of the trap and cringed as he saw his fellow demon hunter go up in flames. Uh oh. Okay, okay, he just needed to stay in hiding until Tubbo got back and they could work out a plan. His heart was hammering in his chest as he saw Dream approach his hiding place, sword at the ready; once Dream had his back to him, the fox made a run for it across the bridge, but wasn’t fast enough. The first crossbow bolt whizzed past his ear, and the second hit home right between his shoulder blades. Fundy shrieked and dove for cover.

On the other side of the bridge, he could see Tubbo sprinting up behind the infuriated dreamon. “DREAM!” Fundy shouted. Tubbo was going to help snap him out of it, surely! “I believe in you, Dream—“ 

The final shot sent Fundy careening over the edge of the cliff and he hit the ground hard.

The hunt was on. Both Tubbo and Fundy were on the run from Dream, who refused to listen to their terrified pleading or attempts at bargaining and was doing a very good job of killing them repeatedly. The way things were looking, it was likely that they hadn’t actually purified Dream at all (score one for Fundy!) and had just made things _worse_.

“We need to calm him down,” Tubbo said, breathless, as the two of them hid in a corner. Fundy had just finished giving a rushed overview of the conversation he’d had with Brick, and they were now hammering out a frantic plan. “Maybe if we calm him down, we can talk to Brick about what happened and figure this out!” His eyes shone with worry. “Fundy, do you have any ideas?!”

Fundy snapped his fingers. “I need a diamond,” he said in a hurry. “Do you have a diamond?”

Tubbo nodded. “Get me to an Ender Chest!” They broke out into a sprint. Dream crashed through the trees behind them, and Fundy willed himself to run faster before the enraged dreamon caught up and bisected him for about the third time in fifteen minutes.

“I need you to get me a diamond,” Fundy said urgently as they ran side-by-side, “and I need you to distract him.” The rest of the plan was falling into place. “Listen, Tubbo, we need— we need to build something that _resembles a car._ ”

Tubbo gave him an incredulous look. An arrow flew far too close, but thankfully missed. “What do you mean, ‘resembles a—‘“

“Trust me on this!” Hopefully Eret wouldn’t mind Fundy stealing some materials for the greater good. The two of them split up: Tubbo beelined for an Ender Chest, while Fundy hoarded everything he hoped he’d need. They didn’t have much time; Dream stayed hot on their trail, and no obstacle was slowing him down.

“Two minutes!” Fundy yelled in Tubbo’s direction. “Give me two minutes! I need you to distract him! _Please_ distract him!” He dodged and weaved between builds; somewhere behind him, Tubbo got Dream’s attention and shrieked in terror right after. Fundy couldn’t focus on that too much right now. He needed to build this as fast as he could, and needed this to work.

He hoped this would be enough. It was rather shoddy, but it was passable and Fundy hoped that it would be enough.

“He’s coming!” Tubbo charged into Fundy and nearly knocked him over. Fundy yelped and smacked him out of panic. “Ow— We’re out of time, Fundy!”

“Diamond!” Fundy shouted. “Diamonddiamonddiamond!” Tubbo tossed him the diamond. Fundy caught it and straightened up; behind him, Tubbo scampered out of the line of fire as Dream stalked down the path like an omen of death.

“DREAM!” Fundy yelled. The dreamon paused. Fundy held up the diamond in one hand and gestured at the car with the other. “Do you remember this?!” Hesitation. Dream stood still, his sword still clenched tight in his hand but remaining unused for now. Fundy barreled on ahead. “Remember the movie! Remember Treasure Planet!”

His date with Dream was burned into Fundy’s memory. He just hoped it’d be the same for Dream. Fundy drew on every detail he could think of as Dream stepped closer; the words fell out without much thought. “Remember the diner! The food, the Mexican food— Dream!” 

“Remember… the music. Remember the fire.” Dream came to a stop right in front of him. “The crisping sound of twigs burned up in comfort. The smores.” Fundy’s eyes brimmed with tears. He’d spent so _long_ getting everything perfect for their date; it had been a labour of love on his part, and was hands-down his fondest memory. _Please,_ **_please_ ** _let Dream feel the same way._ Brick had told him that it had been the _dreamon_ he’d proposed to out of the two of them, so maybe… 

Dream was silent. Fundy wiped his tears away on the back of his sleeve. “Dream—“

A violent green glow surrounded the dreamon, burning bright enough that he could see it through his eyelids. Dream’s feet left the ground. Fundy’s eyes widened in shock as he took a step back and craned his head back to watch him ascend. Tubbo edged closer to the danger zone, looking equally as confused and terrified; Fundy couldn’t find the works to ask, couldn’t tear his eyes off Dream as the masked dreamon hovered in the air and loomed over them.

Whatever Dream was aiming to do from up there, Fundy didn’t know. What he _did_ know was that Dream still had his sword and was still incredibly dangerous. He needed to run— No, he needed to stay. He needed to keep believing in Dream. Shaking, Fundy held out the diamond again. He wasn’t giving up on him. Whatever happened next, Fundy wasn’t going to give up on him.

Dream’s hand— the one not holding his sword— started to shake. Moving in a stuttery and jerky motion, like he was either forcing it to move or forcing it to stop or both at once, his arm rose up and grabbed the mask. His sword fell and embedded itself point-first in the ground as his other hand did the same.

With a furious scream, Brick tore off the mask. Fundy caught a glimpse of his face— pained and furious, red eyes burning bright— before he hurled the mask down. It bounced along the ground, somehow undamaged from the violent throw, and landed near Fundy’s feet. He didn’t spare it a glance.

“Fundy, I’m—“ Brick stuttered. Whatever he was going to say next, Fundy didn’t get to hear it. Fundy couldn’t tell what happened— there was a flash of light as the aura surrounding him exploded outwards like a supernova, and then the contents of Brick’s inventory rained down on the two horrified onlookers. 

Fundy screamed. Tubbo lagged behind in his own response, jaw hanging open as he took the scene in. Fundy rounded on him and grabbed him by the shoulders. “WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!” he yelled, desperate. When Tubbo didn’t immediately respond, he shook him vigorously. “Tubbo— Tubbo, you’re the expert!”

The two demon hunters erupted into overlapping yelling, voices mixing together into an incoherent pile of noise as Fundy begged for answers and Tubbo scrambled to give them. Neither of them noticed the abandoned mask near them twitch like it was moving. They didn’t notice the bruised and battered man sit up from where he’d fallen, either.

“I think we’re safe,” Tubbo gasped in shaky relief. “I THINK IT WORKED!” Fundy cracked a nervous sliver of a grin. They’d done it. Somehow, some way, they’d done it. What “it” was, Fundy no longer had a clue, but they weren’t getting stabbed anymore and he’d take that small victory.

A groan of pain got their attention. Fundy looked over to the source and saw Brick sit up, clutching his head and looking like he was about to be sick. “Dre— Brick!” He was okay! Fundy wagged his tail like an enthusiastic puppy, nevermind the fact that he’s not a dog, and bounded over to help Brick to his feet. Brick ignored him. To Fundy’s confusion, he got up on his own and trudged past him, past Tubbo, and over to where Dream’s mask lay in the grass.

Brick stared down at it with an unreadable expression. After some hesitation, he stooped down and picked it up. Fundy hovered on the outskirts of the scene as Brick straightened up and glared at the mask in his hands. After a drawn-out pause, Brick turned his head and brushed his bangs aside to give Fundy an apologetic look.

That was the last Fundy saw of Brick’s face before he put the mask on again.

The change was instant, now that Fundy could actually see it happen. Dream rolled his shoulders, cricked his neck, then looked himself over like he could hardly believe what he was seeing. Fundy raised an eyebrow at Tubbo, who shrugged in return.

Fundy took the first step. “Is that you, Dream?” He knew the answer was “yes”, but asked anyway just to see the reaction. Dream jumped, then spun around to face him with hands raised in surrender. Fundy kept his distance. “We need to talk later. Can we talk later?” Dream lowered his hands, then nodded. “Okay.” He let out a tired sigh as Dream turned his back on him and took to the task of gathering his discarded inventory from where it still laid strewn across the ground like confetti.

Tubbo leaned in. “I think he’s back to his old self which, give or take, is good!” Fundy laughed. Yeah, _give or take_. He’d learned a lot about his fiancé today, and at the same time felt like he’d learned nothing at all. Or that what he _did_ know, he’d been better off not knowing. Well, too late now.

“I think,” Tubbo said, “I think he’s one of those rare species called a ‘transmuted dreamon’.” Fundy raised an eyebrow. “That means he quickly swaps between the two. He has a dreamon side, and a… not-dreamon side.” He frowned, losing himself in thought for a moment. “I think when we did the ritual, we got rid of the ‘dreamon’ part, and kept the… _not_ dreamon part, but threw it all out of balance.”

“I’m not sure I follow.” Fundy watched Dream pick up his sword, twirl it, then sheathe it.

“Well— transmuted dreamons are different from regular dreamons.” Tubbo started to pace. “Because they didn’t start out as dreamons, their non-dreamon side is still _there_ , but the dreamon takes over and uses their body to do stuff.” That lined up pretty solid with what Brick had told him. “But it sounds like Dream was working _with_ his host, you said?”

Fundy nodded. “It’s… weird. I thought he’d be upset over the _being possessed_ thing, or at me for not helping him sooner, but he said he was friends with Dream. That’s why I asked about, if… if maybe dreamons can be good, because Dream might be one of the good ones.”

Tubbo looked doubtful. “I still don’t think there’s a thing as a ‘good’ dreamon,” he admitted. “A friendly one, maybe, but not a _good_ one. We’re going to need to keep an eye on him.”

“Are you done talking behind my back yet?” Dream called out. Fundy and Tubbo jumped in surprise, and Dream snickered as he put his hands in his pockets and tilted his head back in a somewhat condescending gesture.

“It has been a great time!” Tubbo bounced on his heels and saluted. “Go be happy!”

Dream considered this for a moment, then skipped off down the road. “There he goes,” Fundy breathed in wonder. “He’s hopping around!” Sure enough, Dream was bouncing about like he had no cares in the world. Fundy watched him til he vanished from view. “Tubbo, I think you did it. Tubbo?”

“I— Yes, Fundy?” Tubbo looked up at him. Fundy grinned.

“I fucking love this job.”


	2. side b

“There he is!”

Dream jumped at the sudden yell. He glanced over his shoulder; there, running up behind him, were Fundy and Tubbo decked out in golden armor and holding… diamond hoes? He raised an eyebrow behind his mask. Tubbo must be up to some sort of shenanigan again, and had roped Fundy into it too. Okay.

“DREAMON!” Tubbo shouted, and Dream felt his heart stop. “WE KNOW OF YOUR SPECIES!” He flinched away like he’d been slapped in the face; panic kicked him off into a wild sprint, and behind him he heard a cry of “After him!” as the daring duo gave chase.

How did they know?! Nothing about him should’ve given it away— he’d been careful in everything he’d done, they shouldn’t have any reason to think he was anything other than ordinary. “We’re onto you, dreamon!” Fundy shouted at his retreating form, and Dream pushed himself to run faster before either of them could get close.

Dream had practice running from people. He also had the very fun advantage of being able to push himself past reasonable limits. Fundy and Tubbo, not so much. He sprinted over the landscape with casual effort, jumping over deep gaps and vaulting over fences in his way; it was exhilarating, and he would’ve enjoyed it more if he wasn’t running for his life in a not-fun way. Still, he couldn’t shake Fundy and Tubbo’s close pursuit. Not good.

His escape came to a sudden halt as Dream found himself blocked by a fence he couldn’t simply hop over. He could climb it, maybe, but Fundy had closed in during his hesitation and had a sword at the ready. Dream pressed his back up against the wooden fence, his chest rising and falling as he panted heavily; he saw a look of concern flit across the fox’s face in response to his behaviour. Fundy hadn’t seen him scared before, he realized. Well, Fundy was about to see a lot about him that he hadn’t before.

He reached up to touch his mask. Tubbo had gotten Fundy’s attention and was now tilling the ground for… some reason, but he still didn’t have anywhere to go that they wouldn’t be able to follow. If he really needed to, he could just abandon this body— go on the run again, maybe take over someone else and leave all of this behind.

_No,_ a voice inside him pleaded. Dream’s shoulders slumped and he lowered his hand. He couldn’t. This was the longest he’d kept a host, he couldn’t just abandon that now. Was he seriously putting himself in danger over sentimental value?

He tried to approach, but Tubbo kept him at bay with some well-placed thwacks to the knees. He kept his eyes on Fundy— Fundy looked unsure as he watched him back, and Dream held onto some hope that maybe he’d be able to use that to his advantage. If Fundy could be convinced to drop all of this, then he’d just have to deal with Tubbo, and that would be easy. It looked like Tubbo was the instigator in this, anyway, with how he kept whispering to Fundy.

“Dreamon!” Tubbo announced. Dream eyed the sword as he backed up away from it. “We need you to come to our altar!” Altar? Dream tilted his head. Did they seriously expect him to play along? He had his sword, he could easily take them both out… No, wait, this could work in his favour. He’d follow them, then turn on them when they had their guard down and make a break for it. Dream smirked. Neither of them saw it, of course.

“Okay,” he said with a shrug. Fundy was still looking doubtful, but he helped Tubbo shepherd him nonetheless. Dream kept his stride casual, only occasionally pausing to look around and get his bearings before Tubbo ushered him along again.

Their destination became clear soon: some sort of weird dirt archway, framed by two lapis pillars. With a dramatic flourish, Tubbo placed down a fencepost and gestured for Dream to stand on it. Dream cooperated, although maybe not as intended: he squatted down on it like a wannabe bird, head resting on his arms as he kept an eye on his captors. They didn’t know what they were doing. Dream was certain of that— these two had never dealt with a dreamon in their lives before, despite Tubbo’s confidence.

Still, they’d done a good job of blocking his escape route. That wouldn’t be an obstacle for long; Dream had some TNT on him, and once they took their eyes off him it wouldn’t be too hard to cause a distraction before “accidentally” blowing everything up. Always a good idea to have a backup plan.

Tubbo produced a fancy-looking book. “Dreamon, repeat after me!” he ordered. “You too, Fundy, if you want.” Dream zeroed in on the design on the cover; he swore it looked familiar, but couldn’t place it. He shrugged and stood up, keeping his balance on the pole as instructed. Tubbo must be planning some sort of ritual. That might be a problem… but Dream doubted it would go anywhere. You can’t just get a book and some fancy tools and call yourself a demon hunter, much less a _dreamon_ hunter.

The teenager cleared his throat in a dramatic fashion. “I am one!” he called.

“I am one,” Dream repeated, trying not to laugh. They were seriously doing this, weren’t they?

“A soul!” Tubbo had enough enthusiasm for everyone. Dream’s disinterest flew under the radar.

“A soul.” Dream frowned a little. Actually, no, he felt a bit… weird. Disconnected. He spared a glance down at himself; for the first time in a long while, it took him a moment to recognize what he saw as **oh, yeah, this is supposed to be me.** That’s… that’s a bad sign.

_What’s going on?_

“A higher power!”

“A high—“ Dream’s voice hitched and he tried again. “A higher power!” No, no, this was all wrong. He needed to get out of here. He braced himself to jump, to make a run for it, but his movements were delayed and he was penned in anyway; he clenched his jaw as he tried to keep his grip on his host himself, despite it feeling like someone or something was trying to pry him away.

“I wish for this no more!”

Dream’s mouth was moving, saying the words, but it _wasn’t him_. **No! No, no no no, no!** He fought against it as hard as it could; with each word, he felt his connection fading. **Don’t do this! Don’t listen to them!**

“I will be _fixed!_ ” Tubbo shouted, Fundy echoing him right after.

**You don’t want this! I** **_know_ ** **you don’t! You don’t have to do this!**

He wasn’t listening. Maybe he _couldn’t_ listen. Dream felt a surge of fear as the divide between him and the other grew greater with each passing moment. **I’m sorry for thinking about leaving! I’m** **_sorry_ ** **!**

“I WILL BE _FIXED!_ ”

The words tore their way out of him. _Did_ he want this? Maybe he did— maybe this _was_ what he’d wanted. He’d been so stupid, trusting him. He wasn’t supposed to get attached, but he had, and now he was paying for it.

**Don’t let them take the mask,** he told him. He still wasn’t sure if he could hear him, but he was desperate enough to try anyway. **Whatever you do,** **_don’t let them take me_** **.**

Fingers that used to be his grabbed the mask. Again, Dream was overcome with terror; was this it? Was it all over? Everything he’d done, everything he’d worked for, everything and everyone he’d sacrificed— He was going to be handed over, and the hunters would break the mask, and Dream didn’t know what would happen to him after that. He was already struggling to stay conscious; he put all the energy he had into his last request, **_don’t let them take me_** , and then he was ripped away.

Dream’s mask clattered to the ground. 

* * *

He was _furious_.

He looked over his shoulder. Fundy stared back at him, horrified.

He started to say something, prepared to shout at him for _what he’d made him do_ , but the large amount of TNT said everything he needed to say.

* * *

Brick woke up and stared up at the sky. His ears were still ringing from the explosion and, while respawn had healed the worst of it as always, his hoodie was still a bit singed. He groaned and put a hand to his face and was startled when he made contact with soft flesh instead of the cold, hard surface of his mask.

That was wrong. His memories were muddled, but he knew that was wrong and not something that should be happening. He needed to find Dream. He _needed_ to. Brick staggered to his feet; he felt like a stranger in his own body, and it took an embarrassing amount of effort for him to get his balance and walk towards the smoke in the distance. The sun was too bright, _everything_ was too bright. He pulled his hood down over his face as much as he could, but it didn’t help much. He still felt vulnerable. 

**Don’t let them take me.** The thought echoed through his mind like it had been branded there. He’d failed. He needed to get Dream back. He was not going to stop until he got Dream back. He was going to hunt Fundy down—

Fundy— he remembered Fundy. He needed to talk to Fundy. Fundy could help.

Fundy was standing at the wreckage of the altar and looking at something; Brick couldn’t see what he was holding before he put it away. The fox’s ears flicked and he looked over at him as he approached, then froze where he was standing with wide eyes. _The mask,_ Brick thought desperately. _The mask is gone— he hasn’t seen me before. He hasn’t seen_ **_me_ ** _before._

The silence was long and uncomfortable. Fundy scrutinized him; Brick avoided eye contact, instead staring at a point just over Fundy’s right shoulder until he felt comfortable enough to speak. “Fundy?” The fox didn’t respond. “I feel…” Brick fidgeted, interlocking and twisting his fingers, running his thumbs over each other, in a reassuring gesture he hadn’t done in a long time. _Scared_ , he wanted to say. _Unsafe. Confused. Alone. Empty._ “Different,” he said instead.

“Different how?” Fundy stepped towards him and Brick forced himself to stay where he was. He trusted Fundy! Fundy— Fundy wasn’t a problem. Fundy had just been following along with Tubbo. Fundy was going to help.

Speaking of Tubbo. Brick narrowed his eyes as he saw the other half of the demon hunting duo dart down the pathway to reconvene with them. He did _not_ want to deal with Tubbo right now. He wanted to yell, wanted to grab him and shake him and yell _WHERE IS HE_ , but he was still exhausted from respawn and re-inhabiting his own body.

It took him a moment to register Fundy’s question. He scratched the back of his neck as he thought about it. “I feel _new._ ” _This is new and I hate it. I don’t like this._ Unaware of the messy feelings tangling up inside him, Tubbo gasped in surprise.

“That’s good, that’s good!” Tubbo bounced down the rest of the path until he was just behind Fundy, took a second to catch his breath, then pointed at Brick. “Do you heaaaar… voices?” He grabbed Fundy by the arm and whispered something that Brick didn’t catch. Brick frowned and scrunched up into his hoodie.

He didn’t. He didn’t hear anything besides himself and the people talking to him. Dream’s voice, something that had been there for far too long, was _gone_. “No,” he said. Tubbo’s wide grin was like staring at the sun. _It’s empty in here,_ he wanted to say. _It’s quiet and empty and I don’t like this._

Brick followed along the other questions Tubbo asked. Neither of them seemed to notice how stressed he was— but, no, Fundy was used to _Dream_ , not him. Fundy couldn’t read him. The fox was constantly watching him, taking in everything he did, and frustration bubbled up inside him that he barely held back. Everything Tubbo was asking was to verify that Dream was gone. Every answer Brick was giving was verifying that Dream was gone.

Dream was gone.

At some point, Tubbo split off from the group and it was just him and Fundy. Okay. That was good. He needed to talk to Fundy. Brick hid his face the best he could, but it wasn’t _enough_ , people were still seeing him and he couldn’t… 

“Fundy?” he asked, voice wavering a little. “Where’s… where’s the mask?”

Fundy had it. Fundy had picked it up, after it had gotten knocked off during the ritual. Fundy had the mask. Fundy had Dream.

Brick lunged for it as soon as Fundy pulled it out. Fundy wrenched it away from him. _No!_ Fundy didn’t understand what he was doing— Fundy was literally _holding Dream_ and had no idea. Brick needed the mask back, before the emptiness of where something— someone— used to be crushed him. If he had the mask, then he could be Dream again, and it would be okay, but Fundy _wasn’t giving him the fucking mask—_

“ _STOP CALLING ME DREAM!_ ” he roared.

Fundy staggered back. Brick had the mask. He’d attacked Fundy, had grabbed the mask, and he had it. Brick held it close to his chest and glared at Fundy; he dared him to challenge him, dared him to try and take it, dared him to do _anything_.

The fox raised his hands. “You’re not Dream?” he asked. Brick flinched at the name. Tubbo and Fundy hadn’t stopped calling him that. He wasn’t Dream, not right now. He was someone else. “Who’s Dream, then?” Fundy spoke carefully, like he was dealing with a sound-sensitive bomb. In a way, he was. “If you’re not Dream, then who..?”

Brick laughed, but there wasn’t any humour in it. Fundy’s eyes followed his movement as he held up the mask and pointed to it. “The mask,” he said, letting the secret fall free after they’d both done so much to keep it hidden. “He’s— he’s the dreamon. He’s in the mask.”

The look on Fundy’s face was priceless. He was doing his best to connect the dots Brick had laid out in front of him, and wasn’t liking the picture; it almost made him feel better. “He’s… a mask,” Fundy said after some deliberation. “Dream’s a mask.” He nodded in reply. Fundy dropped to his knees, then sat down and stared dead ahead with a blank expression. Unsure of what to say, Brick stood where he was and looked down at the mask— down at Dream.

Dream wasn’t talking. Dream wasn’t doing _anything_. Sure, he didn’t know the full extent of what Dream could do without a host, but from what he knew and remembered Dream should still be able to do _something_. Being a mask didn’t stop him. Brick held it up. He should put it on. He should— 

No, he owed Fundy an explanation, and he didn’t trust Dream to give one. Brick sighed and lowered it. “I’m Brick,” he said, half-directed to Fundy and half-directed to himself. “My name’s Brick. Dream’s the mask, I’m… I’m Brick.” He’s been Dream for so long that the line dividing the two was a blurred squiggle. He’d lost himself for a minute there.

“And you’ve been… possessed? This whole time?” Fundy didn’t look up at him as he spoke. Brick nodded. Fundy slumped forward, like a propped-up ragdoll. A seed of guilt took root in Brick’s chest— they hadn’t told him. Dream hadn’t told Fundy this _entire time_ what the truth was. They’d gotten close, Fundy had outright _proposed_ to him, but Fundy didn’t have the slightest idea who Dream actually was. Fundy didn’t have the slightest idea who _Brick_ was.

Fundy must’ve been following a similar train of thought. “So— I’ve been talking to the mask this whole time? Including—“ He sat up and gestured vaguely. “The date? The _proposal_?”

Brick tried to hide his snicker, he really did. Fundy sounded so _distraught_ , and for a moment the absurdity of the situation they were in became crystal-clear to them both. “You proposed to the _mask_ ,” he said once he was sure his tone was even. Fundy went back to staring off into the horizon as he took that in.

That might’ve given off the wrong impression, but he wasn’t sure what the right one was.

“I don’t hear him,” Brick said in a soft mumble as he sat down next to the fox. Fundy glanced at him. “I haven’t… Fundy, it’s been a really, _really_ long time since I last had control of my own body.” He turned the mask over in his hands. The marker was still a bit smudged from the incident they’d had with Technoblade a while back. Fundy had definitely seen his scar.

“That’s… good?” Fundy said, slow and cautious. “You’re free! We got rid of the d—“

_No._ Brick gripped the mask tight enough to hurt. He missed Fundy’s look of worried alarm at the sudden mood shift; with just barely restrained fury, he rounded on Fundy and shot him a fiery glare. “He was my _friend_ ,” Brick snapped. “He was _your_ friend, too! You don’t get it, Fundy, I am _this_ close—“ He held up a hand, his finger and thumb nearly touching, “—to losing it right now. My _best friend_ , your _fiancé,_ the person that’s been there for me through everything— You tried to get rid of him.”

“You were _possessed_ for… how long? Months? _Years?_ ” Fundy made a face. Brick shook his head.

“Dream was… It’s complicated,” he managed. He let out a heavy sigh as he started to fidget with his hood. Fundy watched him, and once again Brick felt that he was being scrutinized. _He doesn’t know me. Does he want to?_

“I was possessed, yeah, and it sucked, but… He was my friend. He didn’t start out my friend, but we _became_ friends. He’s not a bad person for just being what he is, okay? It didn’t start out great, it was _awful_ , but he got better! He changed!”

He hated this with every atom of his being. He hated that Fundy didn’t understand, he hated being vulnerable, he hated being himself.

Brick moved to put on the mask.

“Fundy, it’s ready!” Tubbo’s loud voice cut through everything. Brick nearly dropped Dream; Tubbo had managed to sneak up on them, and was bouncing with boundless energy as he waved them over.

Fundy got to his feet first, then extended a hand. Brick stared at it. _What’re they planning?_ Before he’d left, Tubbo had told Brick that he was “going to need to show you something that will upset you”. That… wasn’t exactly encouraging, and Brick was already plenty riled up. He didn’t really have a choice, though, did he?

“Tubbo will know what to do,” Fundy whispered to him as he helped Brick up. Brick wasn’t sure if he believed that.

Tubbo led the group over to… some sort of box. Brick frowned as he wandered around the back; Tubbo had been adamant about him not seeing the front of it just yet, which was a red flag. Fundy pulled the other demon hunter aside and the two engaged in a conversation he could only make out scraps of. He couldn’t see Fundy’s expression, but Tubbo’s face shifted from confident to apprehensive before he waved Fundy off. Hm.

“Hey, Dream— Sorry, Brick!” Brick jumped a little as he was suddenly addressed. Apparently Fundy had told Tubbo his name. He should’ve felt relieved, considering he’d yelled at Fundy over it, but instead it just felt… weird. His name was Brick, but it wasn’t _supposed_ to be. What was going to happen when he started being Dream again? Would they see them as two distinct halves? Would they try to “free” Brick again?

“I’m going to need you to close your eyes, okay?” Brick obeyed. The darkness was reassuring, in a sense.

“ ...Fundy, did he close them?” He heard Tubbo stage whisper after a few moments. “I can’t tell, his hair’s in the way.”

“They’re closed,” Brick grumbled with some annoyance. “Now what?” He tapped his fingers against the mask in his hands. Tubbo cleared his throat, then verbally guided him around; to his credit, Brick didn’t walk into anything, although he did end up somewhat disoriented. Finally, after well over a minute of bumbling about, Tubbo gave him the instruction to open his eyes.

In front of him was the stone box. In front of him was the _entrance_ to the stone box.

He knew what was going to happen as soon as he stepped in. He could see the pressure plate, could see the iron door, had seen this trap enough times to recognize it. No. No, they seriously couldn’t expect him to do this. There was no way. They wouldn’t… 

Brick stepped inside. The iron door slammed shut behind him. The walls were in close enough that he couldn’t shift his weight off the pressure plate; he pressed up against one of the walls, his breathing fast and shallow, as he willed the door to open and for them to _let him out_. Tubbo was talking, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying. Why wasn’t he letting him out? Why weren’t they letting him out?! They were going to leave him in here! All of this had been an elaborate setup and he was trapped he was trapped he was

Dream took over. Brick didn’t fight it.

* * *

His first punch rattled up his arm and he gritted his teeth in pain. The thick metal dented under the sheer force; Dream pulled his arm back, then struck again as hard as he could— harder than Brick could, normally, but Dream was used to exceeding limitations— then again, and again, until the door gave way with a metallic screech. Fire burned in his hidden eyes as he stared the two hunters down.

One of them moved. The other went up in flames.

After that, Dream lost track of things. There was just the chase, the fight, the revenge. Each time he shot Tubbo or Fundy down, they’d be back within moments; Dream didn’t mind that part. He was powered purely by rage, both his own and Brick’s, and he wasn’t going to stop until that fire burned out.

“DREAM!”

Fundy. Fundy was staring him down. The fox held something glittering in his hand that twinkled in the light as he held it up above his head. A diamond, Dream realized. He stopped. Next to Fundy was… something resembling a car, if put together very quickly.

“Do you remember this?!”

He did.

How could he forget? That date with Fundy was one of the highlights of his life. Fundy had made everything just for him, had spent who knows how long getting everything right. It had been a wonderful experience, from start to finish, and he’d hardly been able to believe it when Fundy capped it off with the proposal.

…All of that had been thrown aside as soon as Fundy had learned his true nature. Who was to say this wasn’t another trap? No. He wasn’t making this mistake again. Fundy was a demon hunter now, was a _dreamon_ hunter, and he’d turned his own host against him. That’s not even touching on the subject of Tubbo, who’d started this whole avalanche of a problem. No, he needed to deal with this and he needed to deal with this now.

_Wait!_ Brick’s voice rang through his head. _Isn’t this going a bit too far?!_

**Can I trust you?** Dream snapped. Glowing green light coiled around him. His feet left the ground as he rose up into the air, power flooding through him; he hadn’t had to use this amount of his dreamon abilities in a long time, not since the start of the SMP, but the secret was already out so he might as well stop holding back. **You went along with it! You followed through on the ritual!**

_I re—_

**I am DONE listening to you.** Dream snarled behind the mask. There was a flicker of fear, and then the full weight of Dream’s force crashed down on Brick and the voice was gone. Dream was done with this. He’d gotten too comfortable, had put himself at risk far too much for the feelings of his host and the people around him, and he was tired of it.

He was going to burn this place to the ground, taking the dreamon hunters with it, and then he was going to run and never look back.

Fundy stared up at him, eyes wide in terror. Dream stared back. He was going to miss Fundy, he really was; his feelings for him had been genuine, and that was part of the issue. Even if he _didn’t_ end it all here, things would be different now. He knew about Brick, he knew about what Dream was— there was no going back from this, no matter what he did.

The violent green light flickered and reflected off of the diamond as Fundy held it up again. Dream hesitated. Was Fundy really still holding out hope? Was he really that stupid? He was still trying to get through to him, even after this— even after he’d killed him and his friend over and over, even after he found out about what Dream had done long before they’d met. Even after what he was doing _now_.

Dream’s fingers twitched. Then again, and again, until it started to shake outright. There was something pushing against him. Something forcing him out, forcing him back. Something— Someone— 

_I regretted it,_ Brick’s strained voice said. _Don’t make me regret wanting you back!_

His arm— Brick’s arm— twitched and spasmed as it raised to his mask. **No!** Dream slammed his full weight down again, but wasn’t able to do anything but slow it as Brick stood steadfast. His sword fell out of his grasp as Brick seized control of more of his body. Dream wrestled against him, but Brick was living up to his name of being a solid wall that resisted everything Dream tried.

Brick grabbed the mask. “You’re better than this,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Don’t prove me wrong.”

**Don’t do this,** Dream begged, desperate. **I can’t lose you again—**

“You were already planning to lose me,” Brick snapped, and then with a fierce yell he ripped off the mask.

Everything _hurt_. It felt like he’d just torn himself open; lines of pain raced through him as the dreamon’s influence was torn away. He pushed through the pain, even as his eyes stung with tears, and with all his force threw the mask down to the ground that was now far, far below.

Fundy met his eyes. Brick managed an exhausted and relieved smile as he tried to reassure the fox. “Fundy, I’m—“ _sorry, I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear he’s not like this, I swear you can still trust him, I_

The agony coursing through him shot up several notches, and Brick threw his head back in a silent scream as everything flashed vibrant green and he fell out of the world.

* * *

Everything still hurt. That sucked. For the second time, Brick opened his eyes and stared up at the sky; he could hear voices nearby, but couldn’t make out any words over the ringing in his ears that was now subsiding. He groaned in pain and put a hand to his face. Sitting up took some difficulty, but he did it regardless even if he felt like he was going to drop dead again at any second.

The loud conversation came to a sudden stop, and Brick looked up to see Fundy looking at him with relieved joy. “Dre— Brick!” Fundy yipped. Was he… Was he seriously wagging his tail? Do foxes even do that? Fundy was at his side in the blink of an eye, eyes shining with concern, but Brick stared past him at the white shape he could just barely see near where Fundy had previously been standing.

The mask. Dream. Brick pushed himself up to his feet and staggered a little, then walked past Fundy— one foot after the other, a repetitive cycle he focused on as he tried to clear his head— and ignored the stab of guilt as he wordlessly rejected the offered help. No, he needed to do this first. He needed to wrap up this loose end. He needed…

Dream’s mask was still warm from being worn when he picked it up. The faintest flickers of green light sparkled around it, but even those faded after a few moments. Brick narrowed his eyes in a glare. The thought of getting rid of it crossed his mind, but… No, he couldn’t. He knew Dream on a deeper level than anyone else ever could without wearing the mask themselves; Dream had been scared, had been hurt, and… 

And that didn’t justify what he did. That didn’t justify him wanting to _kill Fundy and Tubbo_. That didn’t justify him reverting back to seeing Brick as just a tool to be puppeted around. Dream had fucked up beyond belief, and Brick wasn’t about to forgive him for it. If Brick hadn’t stopped him— if Brick hadn’t fought back— he would’ve been straight-up gone. The thought of the absolute _nothing_ made him shiver.

His shoulders slumped. Despite his anger, he didn’t want this to be where it ended. He knew Dream was better than this. He’d wanted to tell Fundy that. And, truth be told, Brick still couldn’t imagine a life other than the one he had now. _Don’t make me regret wanting you back_ , he thought with a pang of hurt.

Brick turned to Fundy and brushed his bangs aside so the fox could fully see his face. He gave him the best apologetic look he could, tried to cram all of his feelings and regrets into it, and then he fitted the mask back over his face.

Dream settled back into his body like he was doing nothing more than putting on his hoodie, rather than taking control of an entire human person. On instinct, he did the normal checks— rolled his shoulders, cricked his neck, tapped his thumb against each finger in a count, everything he did each time he took over a host— then the memory of what just happened crashed into him like a truck. **What?** No. No, he seriously wasn’t in Brick’s body again, was he?

He was. Dream looked down at himself and saw the familiar outfit, the familiar build, and could hardly believe it. He hadn’t been the one to initiate it, this time. Brick had willingly put the mask back on, even after the fight. **Why?**

_I’m not going to forgive you._ Brick’s voice was so quiet that Dream nearly missed what he said. _But… I don’t want you to go._

**You can’t be serious.** Dream was stunned. **Did you really forget everything that just happened?! Did** **_everyone_ ** **forget what just happened?! You’re** **_willingly_ ** **giving yourself over to a dreamon that just tried to—**

_I know,_ Brick snapped. _Like I said, I’m not going to forgive you. But… you were getting better. You_ **_were_ ** _better. I don’t want you to go back to being like that._

“Is that you, Dream?”

Fundy’s voice cut through the internal discussion like a knife. Dream jumped a little at the sudden interruption, then turned with his hands raised in surrender. Fundy’s expression was hard to read— worried, maybe, but with a weird tinge to it Dream didn’t recognize. “We need to talk later. Can we talk later?” Fundy’s voice was even, but there was a small note of anxiety as his voice pitched up near the end. Dream lowered his hands and nodded. “Okay.” Not wanting to continue the conversation any more than he needed to, Dream turned his back on him. He still needed to pick up his scattered inventory, anyway.

_You need to actually talk to him,_ Brick said. Dream ignored him. _He wants to trust you._

Dream picked up his sword, twirled it in a small flourish, then sheathed it. **I don’t know if I can trust** **_him_** **.** He frowned; behind him, he could hear Fundy and Tubbo engaged in a discussion that was, without a doubt, about him. **He’s a dreamon hunter. I’m a dreamon. Things are different now— I don’t know if I can trust anyone to not stab me in the back.**

“…because Dream might be one of the good ones,” he heard Fundy say. Dream froze.

_I told you_. Brick didn’t sound smug, he just sounded tired. _Just… don’t do that again. Don’t do that ever again. Don’t… don’t get rid of me._

Dream swallowed, his throat feeling tight. **I won’t.**

“Are you done talking behind my back yet?” he called out in a casual tone once he was sure he’d be able to talk without his voice cracking. He turned around in time to see Fundy and Tubbo react as he startled them out of their conversation; the looks on their faces were priceless, and he snickered.

Tubbo was the first to recover from his surprise. “It has been a great time!” He saluted with a serious look that contrasted with how he was bouncing in place. “Go be happy!”

**Go** **_what_** **?** Dream raised an eyebrow. He started laughing despite himself; it wasn’t exactly a _happy_ laugh, more of a frazzled one, but he was laughing nonetheless. Yeah, okay, sure. He might as well at this point. Play along, don’t think about it, stay on their good side. Dream skipped off down the path, leaving the two demon hunters far behind.

Once he was sure he was out of sight, his pace slowed. Dream took in a deep breath, let out an exhausted sigh, then reached up to remove the mask. His hands stopped just shy of it, then he let his arms drop back to his sides and tilted his head back to look up at the clear sky.

_Can I ask you something?_

“Huh?” Dream blinked. “Uh, sure. Go for it.”

_What was with the flying and glowing?_ Brick asked. _That was weird. You didn’t do that before._

“Oh. That.” Not caring that he was, to an outside observer, talking to empty air, Dream leaned against a tree and ran his fingers over the hilt of his sword. “I don’t use my dreamon powers much anymore, do I? It’s the same power that lets me make stuff, just… more of it. I might’ve gone overboard,” he admitted.

_You can_ **_fly_** _? All this time?_ Brick sounded mildly offended. _And you didn’t tell me?_

“It draws attention,” Dream countered. “And… well, it killed you. Overusing it isn’t good for my vessels.” There was still a lingering soreness that he knew would soon fade, but it was there regardless and that was less than ideal.

_You can fly,_ Brick repeated. Great, he was hung up on it. Dream rolled his eyes. _We should do that more! Why don’t we do this more?_

**Did you miss the part where—** No, he wasn’t going to get through to him, was he? Dream groaned in annoyance. **Okay, fine, fine. I can fly.** An idea occurred to him, and a wide grin split his face. **Hey, want to do something fun?**

“YEP, THAT’S A DREAMON,” Tubbo shrieked as Dream dropped out of the sky and dive-bombed him with a solid kick to the ribs. Fundy hollered in startled terror as Tubbo ran for his life; Dream cackled as he gave chase. “ ** _THAT’S A DREAMON!_ **”

Being a “good” dreamon didn’t stop him from being a menace to society.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaand that's it! im still not totally happy with the pacing of this or etc but it sure does exist.
> 
> ive got re-inspired to work on this au more so therell be some not-backlogged content soon! i just, uh, need to figure out some details. woo
> 
> thank you for enjoying my bullshit.


End file.
